


I didn’t stand a chance

by moz



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, One Shot, POV Dorian Pavus, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 21:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14627280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moz/pseuds/moz
Summary: Mahanon tells Dorian about his night with Solas.





	I didn’t stand a chance

“I fucked Solas.”

Dorian and Mahanon had been having these gatherings once a week for months now. It typically began with some sort of light meal, followed by copious amounts of drinking and Mahanon crying on the floor. 

Dorian expected nothing different this week, although as a conversation starter, this was a first.

As far as Dorian knew (and this elf told him  _everything_ ), Mahanon hadn’t been with anyone since leaving his clan, and though he spoke plenty of his wild escapades with the Dalish, Dorian had never seen any evidence of his  _supposed_  promiscuity.

He poured Mahanon a glass and set the bottle between them. The elf looked a little paler than usual, but it could have been the yellow glow of firelight.

“And how was that?” Dorian asked. “Did he commence with a nice lecture on Veil manipulation? Finish off with a tale of Elvhenan?”

Mahanon shook his head, taking a generous swig of his wine. “If only. At least  _that_  I can handle.” Mahanon sighed, resting his head on the back of his chair. “This was far, far stranger.”

Dorian’s mouth curled up into a smile. He revelled any dirt on that bald elf. Anything to have some sort of leverage over the man, whom Dorian had attempted countlessly to befriend, only to be rebuffed every single time. In truth, he thought Mahanon odd for choosing  _that_  man over anyone else in the Inquisition. The two were nothing alike.

“Do tell.”

Mahanon swallowed, a small flush darkening his skin as a crease formed between his eyebrows. “He’s a freak.”

Dorian couldn’t stop the breathless laugh that escaped him. “Well, Mahanon, his appearance should have been warning enough,” he smirked. Dorian felt a cool comfort in hearing the words, and a small part of him hoped Mahanon would cease his affections for the other elf.

“I’m serious,” Mahanon said, indignant and quite serious indeed. “It was... weird. Like nothing I’ve ever done before.”

Dorian actually had no idea whether Mahanon had ever done  _anything_  before, but he kept quiet on the matter. Something about the Inquisitor always kept Dorian from his usual mockeries, a behavior that felt nearly alarming.

“He was so  _into_  it, too. It was disturbing.” Mahanon shook his head again, taking another heavy gulp of wine. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll have to break it off.”

Dorian raised a brow at that one. Although he had arrived at Haven much later than all their other companions, Dorian had seen the way the Inquisitor slowly grew fond of the apostate. The elf had been terrified of mages before befriending Dorian, and even now, Mahanon was wary. But whatever initial hesitation the man had held for Solas, it had flourished into something far more affectionate. Infatuation and admiration, but not love. It could never be  _that_. Not with  _Solas_.

“What  _happened_ , Mahanon?” Dorian was curious, nearly dying to know. He could picture all sorts of dark fantasies that secretly swept through Solas’s mind. What sick, twisted,  _obscene_  indecencies did that hobo apostate–

“He did  _magic_ ,” Mahanon spat. “Who would do  _that_  in the  _bedroom_?”

Dorian blinked at him for a few moments while considering his words. “Magic?”

“I don’t know. Fire? Lightning? Water? It was like every element was upon me at once.” Mahanon raked his hands through his hair, pulling at it in frustration. Clearly, the man was upset. “It was so...  _confusing_. I felt like I was in a battle.”

Dorian pursed his lips and looked away in an attempt to stop himself from bursting with laughter. If he told Mahanon the number of times he  _himself_  had used magic during sex... Well, Dorian knew far too many spells to set the nerves alight, that was for certain.

Dorian met Mahanon’s gaze again, only to feel guilt rack his conscious the moment he caught the worry in his friend’s eyes.

“What should I do?”

It was clear that magic was still a very present fear for the elf, even with spells cast by people he trusted (although perhaps he  _didn’t_  trust Solas, which brought a whole new pondering to their relationship for Dorian).

Dorian smiled, sympathetic and sad. It would be so easy to turn this conversation against Solas, return to a pleasanter time when Dorian was the only mage Mahanon would bring on missions, when  _he_  was the person Mahanon spent all his time with.

“I think you should speak with him about this,” Dorian finally said. “Tell him how you feel.”

Mahanon dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “But what if he gets angry?”

“Maybe he will,” Dorian agreed. “But if he cares, he’ll understand.”  _Like I do_.

Mahanon didn’t say much after that and drank himself into a stupor. A few weeks later, Dorian saw Solas and Mahanon together, whispering in each other’s ears like children telling secrets. They chuckled and teased one another, and Dorian could tell as plainly as anyone else that they were  _– he physically shuddered at the thought –_ falling in love.

Dorian sighed and made his way to the tavern. He really needed to get out more.


End file.
